Much Ado About Destiny
by assimilates
Summary: When Tess returned from Antar, she didn't come alone. Two men were sent after her, to bring her back so that she could be put on trial for treason. Only problem is, Tess is dead... STAR WARS CROSSOVER!
1. Chapter One

**" MUCH ADO ABOUT DESITNY "**

_01. CHAPTER ONE_

"Check out Luke and Han."

"What?" Michael Guerin looked up from the grill and the burgers he'd been flipping to stare at his gilrfriend, caught off guard by her statement.

"Those two," Maria DeLuca said as she pointed towards two men clad in brown robes, sitting at one of the booths. "They are obviously confused. A, the crash festival was months ago, and B, the _Star Wars_ convention is in LA."

Michael stared at her blankly. "Again, _what_?"

"Hello Michael, _Star Wars_!"

"How is this important?"

"Michael! Jump on the pop culture bandwagon and take a glimpse of the duo that will soon be sued by the god that is George Lucas if they don't ditch the retro Jedi look soon."

Michael sighed and flipped a neglected burger. "I'm guessing this is one of your sci-fi movie references."

"Not just _any_ Sci-Fi movie," Maria said as she continued to eye the wannabe Jedi, "**the** Sci-Fi movie. It's one of the greatest movies of all time. Uhg, I can't believe you haven't seen it. I swear, sometimes I seriously wonder about you, Space Boy. Remind me to make you watch it sometime. All three of them - it's a trilogy."

He rolled his eyes. "Fun. I'll add it to my list of things to do as soon as my shift's over."

Maria gave him a look and shook her head, grabbing the pad that she took orders down on off the table. She placed the pad in the pocket of her apron and strolled over to the booth that housed 'Luke' and 'Han.' "So boys, can I get you anything, or do you need more time?"

The younger of the two men, sporting unkempt hair and piercing blue eyes, looked up at her. "Mi boska di Zan."

For a moment, the blonde waitress just stared. It may've taken her a few moments, but eventually it clicked. "Oh my God." She slammed both hands down on the table, causing both men to jump, and leaned closer to the blue-eyed wannabe Jedi. "You speak Huttese!"

The younger man leaned back some, putting a bit of distance between himself and Maria. He exchanged a puzzled look with his older companion, then nodded in Maria's direction.

Maria grinned goofily and laughed. "Oh my God, y'all are bigger dorks than I am." She leaned away from the table, shaking her head in amusement. "Never again will I feel bad about seeing that horrid Jonathan Taylor Thomas flick, just because Mark Hamill was in it."

The other man, donning a beard and calm gray eyes, folded his arms and arched a thin eyebrow at the waitress. "Excuse me?"

Maria leveled him with the same look she'd used on Michael. "Mark Hamill. Y'know, Luke?" She pulled her pen out from it's place behind her ear and held it between her hands, swinging it around as she did her best to immatate the sound of a lightsaber.

"Sorry, but I don't believe we know anyone by either of those names."

Her hands fell limply to her sides as she stared at him incredulously. "Alright, you're either completely clueless when it comes to the _Star Wars_ universe, or totatlly in character. Who are you supposed to be, anyway? Ben Kenobi?"

He looked at her, confused for a moment, before responding: "Obi-Wan, actually."

Maria laughed. "Sure, sure." She turned to the younger man. "And I suppose you're Luke Skywalker, Ben--sorry, _Obi-Wan'_s Jedi in training."

His blue eyes held confusion as well. Slowly, he said: "No. My name's not Luke. I'm _Anakin_ Skywalker - and I'm Obi-Wan's _former_ Padawan."

"Someone's been reading a little too much fan fiction!"

The supposed Anakin Skywalker shook his head, waving a hand as if to shoo away the confusion that Maria's words brought. "This is getting us nowhere. We're looking for an An--"

He was abruptly cut off, as a another young woman came up behind Maria, grasping the waitress by her shoulders and spinning her around. "Maria, you'll never believe what I just saw!"

"Whoa Liz," Maria remarked as she regained her balance. "Taking an order here, or at least trying to." She cast a glance over at the pair in the booth, then shook her head. "Forget it, these guys obviously aren't ready. So, spill - what'd you see?"

"Remember Vicky Delany, the one Kyle was all over after I broke up with him - after the whole initial Czechoslovakian thing?"

"Of course. That blonde bimbo was hanging all over Kyle." She wrinkled her nose, "It was rather disgusting. I'm lucky I didn't go blind. What does Vicky Delany have to do with anything?"

"Nothing to do with anything Czechoslovakian related, but it is highly amusing." Liz Parker laughed as Maria made gave her an impatient look. "She got busted. For possession."

Maria stared at her friend in mock suprise for moment, then burst out laughing. "Get out! That's just too perfect. I knew the girl always seemed a little..." She trailed off, trying to find the right description.

"Mellow?" Liz offered.

"Like she was one of those people that camped out at Woodstock," she finally said. "Mellow works, too. Always found it odd how she was all nice-nice to you, when she was fully aware of the fact that you were Kyle's ex-girlfriend."

"I know! Well, I'm just glad that she--"

"Milk."

Both girls slowly turned back to the booth, where the neglected supposed Jedi sat, the younger of the two looking pointedly at Maria.

"What?" She asked.

"Milk," he stated again. "You asked us what we wanted. We want milk."

"Just milk?"

"Yes. Just milk."

Maria arched a curious eyebrow and echanged glances with Liz. "Alright," she said, as she jotted the order down on her pad. "Two milks coming right up."

Liz followed Maria to the counter and drew out two glasses as the blonde waitress retreated to the kitchen to retrieve the carton of milk.

Maria filled both glasses and set the carton on the counter. "They'll have to live without the blue dye," she remarked quietly to Liz.

"What?"

"Blue milk...oh, nevermind." Shaking her head, Maria grabbed both glasses, strolled back over to the booth, and placed it before the supposed Jedi. "Enjoy your...milk." Giving them the best smile she could muster, she retreated to the back to gossip a bit more with Liz.

* * *

The supposed Anakin Skywalker wrinkled his nose in disgust. "This planet unnerves me, Master." 

"Why do you say that?" The supposed Obi-Wan asked as he raised the glass and sniffed it, drawing it back so he could eye it curiously.

"For one thing, their vehicles still run on fossil fuels, which is contaminating their air. Half the things in this place are clearly designed to break within a few years and this milk is white."

"What's wrong with milk being white?"

"It's supposed to be blue."

"I'm not much of a milk drinker, so I wouldn't recall. But," he said with a laugh, "I'll take your word for it."

"Sitting here is getting us nowhere. We should be out, asking questions and gathering evidence, it would--"

"Get us nowhere." Obi-Wan gave him a pointed look and the young man calmed, leaning back casually against the back of the booth seat. "Look, the tracking device is of no use to us since it burned up upon re-entry into this planet's atmosphere. Her prescence is strong in this place...she's been here. There's a good chance she'll come back. Right now, we wait."

"With you, we always wait. I like taking action."

"I know you do, young one. Patience. She'll come to us in time. Besides, if you _were_ out there asking questions...I don't think anyone would be able to help you. If an Antarian were walking about these parts, one of the locals would be bound to notice. Eva'd stick out like a sore thumb."

"Most Antarians do."

* * *

"And here I thought I was a fanatic," Maria remarked as she glanced out the small window on the door at their only remaining customers for the day, seated in the booth. "Those two are absolutely delusional." 

Liz laughed and shook her head. "Maybe this is a sign that you need to find a new fandom, Maria. I hear _Star Trek_ is looking for some new fans."

"Oh, God no! Trekkies are far worse! Unless...you'd rather I be fluent in and speak nothing but Klingon."

Michael leaned in from the kitchen, sighing heavily. "Can we stick to English here?"

Maria ignored him. "Then again, Klingon is too rough sounding. It's all throaty. Huttese is much prettier. Rolls off the tongue nice and smooth. Klingon is one of the many reasons why I could never be a Trekkie."

"Yo, Frick and Frack," Michael snapped impatiently at Liz and Maria. "Unless we want to turn the Crashdown into a bed and breakfast, I suggest you go inform those two out there that it's closing. 'Cause I ain't cooking anything else."

"Frick and Frack?" Maria leveled him again with that same, disappointed look. "You make a _Battlestar Galactica_ reference, but have no clue as to what Star Wars is? Dear God, where have you been?"

"Stuck here in Roswell, that's the problem."

"I'm not going to even dignify that with a response."

Liz stood and moved for the door, but Maria stopped her.

"Today's your day off," she said to her friend. "Let me go take care of Vader and Ben, and you stay in here and help ET--" she gestured to Michael with her head, "--phone home."

Liz stepped aside and let Maria pass. "Wait. I thought she said they were Anakin and Obi-Wan." She looked over at Michael for an answer.

Michael held up his hands. "Don't ask me, I'm clueless when it comes to this _Star Trek_ nonsense."

"_Wars_," Liz corrected.

"Whatever."

* * *

"...nothing compared to the six you've lost." 

"Hey, now. Five. The fifth one didn't count. I didn't loose it...it, got cut off. And that wasn't exactly my fault. The Geo--"

"Am interrupting something?" Maria stepped up next to the booth, eyeing the two suspiciously. Her eyes fell upon the silver object that was held in Anakin's gloved hand. "Oh, I so hope that's one of those imitation lightsabers."

"Imitation?"

"Yes, imitation. Fake. Bandai, action satisfaction. ...wait, that just made my brain dive even farther off the badness cliff."

Anakin quickly returned his 'imitation' lightsaber to his belt and exchanged confused glances with Obi-Wan, before turning to Maria. "I beg your pardon?"

"Wait, George Lucas doesn't feed _Star Wars_ toys through Bandai..." Maria trailed off and returned her attention back to the pair when Obi-Wan reached out and tapped her arm. "Oh, sorry. I was rambling. It's late...which, brings me to my point. We're closing. Time to leave." She held her hand out towards the exit. "You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here."

"I was afraid of that," Anakin muttered under his breath. Obi-Wan threw a look at him and he stiffened knowingly. "Shutting up."

"Yes," Obi-Wan said in Anakin's direction as they both stood. He turned to Maria, "How much do we owe you for the white milk?"

"White...okay. Uh, two dollars even."

He drew out a wad of bills and flipped through them, pulling out two and handing them to Maria. "There we are." He smiled in accomplishment and stepped out of the booth and began walking towards the door. "Come along, Pada--Anakin."

Maria watched as Anakin glowered and strolled away from the booth. When the two were finally at the door, she glanced down at the money in her hand. "Wait, did he just give me two tens?" She looked up to call out for them to wait, but they were already gone.

* * *

"That was useless." 

Obi-Wan sighed. "You can't expect things to happen right away, Anakin. Be patient. You still have much to learn."

"Perhaps...but I am not your Padawan anymore." Anakin said in annoyance, recalling the slip that Obi-Wan almost made back at the Crashdown.

"It's only been a short while since you've been knighted. I've just barely gotten used to the fact that I can't order you around anymore." He meant for that last part to be a joke, but Anakin continued to glower. "Always so serious... You know, you've almost grown out enough hair to start another Padawan braid."

"As opposed to your hair, which is retreating into your skull."

Obi-Wan stopped, turning to face his former Padawan. "Why Anakin, was that a joke? I thought you were pouting."

Anakin's eyes narrowed. "No, a fact. And I am not pouting. Jedi do not pout."

"Then perhaps you should stop." Obi-Wan turned back around, continuing out down the highway, towards the desert. "Relax, we'll go back tomorrow. If she doesn't appear within a week, we'll try things...your way."

The younger Jedi was silent for a moment, holding himself back from snapping, 'We should've started out doing things my way.' Instead, he replied with: "Yes, Master."

"Rest assured, we will complete our mission. We will find Queen Ava."

"I agree." Anakin fell into step beside his former Master, his face now calm. "One thing's for sure, Master."

"What's that?"

"Earth, while it is a primitive world, is better than half the planets within the Outer Rim. Even if they do have odd colored milk."

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

_"Roswell" is © Jason Katims; "Star Wars" is © George Lucas._

09.26.2005, edited 05.03.2007


	2. Chapter Two

**" MUCH ADO ABOUT DESITNY "**

_02. CHAPTER TWO_

"..some _Star Trek _freaks auditioning for a _Got-Milk?_ commercial."

Maria reached across the front seat to swat the back of Michael's head. "_Wars_," she corrected. "_Star Wars_. There's a difference - a big difference. George Lucas and Gene Roddenberry are not the same person."

Michael rubbed the back of his head, making sure to keep one hand firmly on the steering wheel. "Like it matters!" He snapped back at her. "I don't give a damn about this sci-fi genre you're so obsessed with. The difference between Gene and George is not my point here. My point is," he glanced at the rear-view mirror at Isabel and Max's reflections from the back seat, "that those two were suspicious."

"Oh, please!" Maria cried as she rolled her eyes. "They were just over enthusiastic fans. Cosplayers. Wannabe actors. Pick one! But they were _not_ suspicious. A little bit delusional with the pre- Vader and Ben -ness of it all, but not suspicious. To them, every day is like Halloween and the Crashdown was just another house to stop at for candy."

Max looked up from the book that was settled on his lap. "I thought you said they ordered milk. They ordered candy, too?"

"I didn't know candy was even sold at the Crashdown," Isabel threw in.

"We don't. And all they ordered was milk, as I stated earlier."

"Just milk. Out of all the things on the menu - milk," Michael said, as if it would succeed in furthering his point.

Isabel leaned up from the back seat, poking her head in between Michael and Maria. "Of course, Michael!" She exclaimed sarcastically. "That's it! They want to rid the Earth of our cow population."

Michael scoffed, lightly pushing Isabel back with his elbow. She laughed and shrank back down into her seat.

"They should've gone to Texas," Max said, "or Nebraska. More cows."

Michael glared at Max's reflection. "Don't humor her, Maxwell."

Max sighed. "It's just highly unlikely that two guys dressed up like Jedi from an old 70s movie are here to kill us. _Star Wars _is one of those cult sci-fi movies, Michael. Some of their fans are pretty...out there. They probably just stopped here in Roswell on their way to a convention."

Maria whirled around to face Max as they pulled up to the Crashdown. "You've seen _Star Wars_?"

"Uh...once or twice," he answered.

"There is a God!" She proclaimed and jumped out of the jeep, hugging Max briefly, before heading off into the Crashdown with Isabel.

Max grimaced and glanced over at Michael. "Doesn't her...enthusiasm frighten you?"

"Nope," he responded. "Just gives me ideas for Christmas presents."

* * *

"Oooo, nice!" A teenage girl remarked as Anakin passed by her on the street. She elbowed her friend and pointed to him. 

"Nice body...nice eyes...but," the other girl shook her head disapprovingly, "hair is not groomed. I like my men to have well-groomed hair."

"There is nothing wrong with my hair," Anakin commented to Obi-Wan once they were farther down the street and out of earshot of the two girls.

Obi-Wan chuckled. "Ignore them, Anakin. Young girls have a tendency to ogle. You're just not used to it, being that people have more respect for Jedi back home than they do here. I don't think these people even know what Jedi are, more or less our codes."

"That one girl did," Anakin reminded him. "That waitress at the Crashdown seemed to know who we were."

Obi-Wan looked sceptical. "Ben and Luke?"

"She got our last names right."

"Lucky guess." He glanced momentarily at his reflection in the window of a shop they passed by. "Besides, I don't look like a Ben."

"Maybe when you get older, your hairline recedes more and turns white, the name'll suit you," Anakin remarked jokingly with a laugh.

"Why must everything lead back to my hair?"

"Because I want to take advantage of being able to talk about it while it's still here. Admit it, it's disappearing, Master."

"And your's will soon be, too."

"Master, I'm twenty-three, my hair is in no danger of falling out."

Obi-Wan laughed at him. "I wouldn't be so sure of that, young one. Those who make fun of those going bald are usually doomed to baldness themselves."

"So you admit it!" Anakin smirked. "You are going bald!"

"I'm not admitting to anything, Anakin." They had reached the Crashdown, Obi-Wan stepped forward to open the door for himself and Anakin. "I'm just saying that within a few years, I'll still have hair, while you have none."

"I highly doubt that, Master." Anakin laughed along with Obi-Wan as they reclaimed the same booth from yesterday.

* * *

"Oh, sweet Jesus on a stick!" Maria swore aloud as she watched Anakin and Obi-Wan enter. "Lord Vader and Force ghost at two o'clock." 

Behind her, seated at the counter, Kyle put his hands over his mouth and breathed in and out forcefully. "Join me, and together we'll rule the galaxy as father and son!"

Maria laughed and peered over her shoulder at Kyle. "Isn't violence against your ways, Buddha boy?"

"It's the whole James Earl Jones aspect of it all," he admitted. "That, and the helmet's kinda cool."

"Vader fan?"

"Guilty as charged. So, what do you mean, 'Lord Vader and Force ghost'?"

"Anakin and Obi-Wan." She gestured towards the booth that housed them.

"What? Wait. Am I having one of those dreams again? But, where's the supermodel on the bike?"

From his right, Isabel laughed. "Relax, Kyle. Sadly, this is not a figment of your imagination. If I were dreamwalking you, I'd be wasting my time."

"But Maria just said, Anakin and Obi-Wan--"

"Are delusional fans," Maria finished. "Who I unfortunately have to take an order from." She sighed and saluted to Kyle. "Fear not, for I will not be tempted by the lure of the dark side." She whirled around and headed towards the booth, adding silently to herself: "No matter how drop dead gorgeous it is."

For a moment, she swore she saw one of the salt shakers hovering in mid air. She blinked and shook her head, and when she looked again, the salt shaker was sitting on the table by the wall where it was supposed to be. "Jedi delusions," she told herself.

Anakin frowned as Obi-Wan lectured him about using his Jedi abilities to entertain himself. He'd heard this lecture a million times before, to the point where he nearly had it memorized. Glad for the distraction, he side-glanced at Maria as she drew closer. "Master...the girl."

Obi-Wan halted his words and turned to smile at the waitress. "Hello there. We enjoyed the milk so much, we thought we'd come back for more."

Maria eyed them both sceptically. "Right... Look, I don't know what kind of fan film script you got a hold of, but episodes one, two, and three do not take place in Roswell, New Mexico. It was not the _Falcon_ that crashed here."

Anakin stood, suddenly interested. He towered over Maria, the waitress having to tilt her head back to stare up at him. "Whoa," she remarked in amazement. At least he had gotten Vader's height right.

"There was a crash?" He pressed. "A space craft?"

Maria nodded, wondering where he was going with this. "Duh. The 1947 crash - the _supposed_ crash. If you believe in that sort of thing. I, for one, think the whole alien conspiracy thing is totally bogus."

"What do you mean?" Anakin asked, not understanding.

"Dude, look. I don't know what's up with your whole alien hunter Jedi thing, but that supposed crash happened fourty years ago. Government conspiracy, if you ask me."

She stepped back, and Anakin sat back down, looking ruffled.

"I'll...get your milk," Maria said quickly and hurried off.

"Relax, Anakin," Obi-Wan soothed. "She doesn't know anything." He leaned closer. "I've been talking to some of the locals - apparently some ship crashed out in the desert 40 years ago. That crash is irrelevant to us. Ava's crash was recent. I don't think that was her ship."

He sighed. "You're right. I just..." He knocked on the table with his left hand impatiently, "...want this over with. I miss home. This place...is too...sandy. Reminds me too much of Tatooine."

Obi-Wan frowned. He hadn't even thought of the impact the desert scene would have on his former Padawan. Anakin was still hurting over the traumatic loss of his mother. He searched for the right thing to say, but before he could get anything plausible out, Maria returned with their milk.

Anakin sighed heavily and leaned forward, propping himself up on his elbows. He watched as Maria strolled off in the opposite direction, catching the eye of Michael, who was staring at him rather pointedly from the kitchen. "I've got a bad feeling about this," he said as he turned back towards Obi-Wan.

"You've got a bad feeling about everything lately, Anakin. Relax."

"What if I don't want to relax? I mean..." He sighed. "I apologize, Master. I just feel this overwhelming sense of...dread." For a moment, he glanced over his shoulder at Maria. "Like, everything we're doing is futile. That some things are just inevitable."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, confused by his former Padawan's words. "What's inevitable?"

"I don't know. Something. Something...bad."

The Jedi Master shook his head, smiling knowingly.

Anakin squinted at him, leaning back some. "What?"

He chuckled. "Nothing."

Sighing, Anakin hid his face in his gloved hand. "I'm stressing and you're making fun of me."

"I am not making fun of you, Anakin."

Anakin peered at him from between two fingers. "Yes you are," he said flatly. "I'm trying to convey to you how I'm feeling, and you're dismissing it as me being...anxious or something."

"And you're not?"

His hand dropped back down to the table. Yes, in truth, he was anxious. Anxious to get back home...back to her - _No_. He could feel Obi-Wan trying to probe his mind, trying to figure out what his former Padawan was thinking, and would not give her away that easy. He quickly through up a mental barrier.

"Yes, but that's beside the point," Anakin answered, semi-truthfully. "I just...don't like it here. Things are," he glanced to Maria once more, turning back to Obi-Wan when he caught Michael's glare, "confusing."

* * *

"Michael, I swear, if you don't drop the Heero Yuy death glare, I'm going to pull a Bugs Bunny and hit you over the head with that frying pan." Maria reached for the pan to emphasis her point as she caught sight of Anakin turning around to glance at her for a moment out of the corner of her eye. 

Michael grabbed her arm, "Then tell Lord What's-His-Face to stop ogling you."

"He is not ogling me, Michael. You're just paranoid."

He let go of her arm and moved the pan she was trying to get out of her reach. "Am I? He seems rather interested in you, if you ask me. And who knows, maybe you _Star Trek _freaks just attract one another."

"_Star Wars_!" Maria shouted in annoyance, gaining an echo from Kyle, who was still seated at the bar.

"I don't give a damn about the stupid title!" He snapped. "I'm just saying, you tend to attract a lot of freaks. Like that band nerd, Billy."

"Billy was different," Maria said. "And who said I was attracted to that wannabe pre-adolescent Vader?"

"So you are!"

"Why am I trying to defend myself? You're obviously delusionally jealous, and I'm going to have no part in fuelling your rage."

"I am not jealous."

She scoffed. "Yes, and I'm bonified daughter of a Sith Lord."

He slammed a hand down on the counter, causing the few remaining customers in the Crashdown to turn and look their way. "I am tired of your sci-fi terminology. What is that supposed to mean?"

Maria sighed heavily, "It means your delusional. And you're right - I attract a lot of freaks. You, being a perfect example of that." Glaring momentarily, she turned her back on him as she headed up to the front to check out a couple that was ready to pay.

Michael let out a noise of frustration, and went to picking up around the kitchen. It was almost closing at the last customers had left. Well, the next to last. Peering out into the café, he could still see Anakin and Obi-Wan sitting at the booth. He had half a mind to say something to those two, especially the younger one, but didn't want to put up with Maria yelling at him. He'd had enough of that for one night.

"Want some advice?"

Michael turn to look at Kyle, but didn't answer him.

"Be nice about the whole _Star Wars_ thing. Fandoms can mean a lot to people, so it's not a good idea to bash them - not to mention accuse them of something when there's no evidence to support it. Buddha says--"

"Kyle!" Isabel, who had been listening in, decided it was her cue to drag Kyle off and allow Michael the chance to apologize to Maria. "I came here with Max and he left with Liz earlier, so would you mind giving me a ride home? I'd call Jessie, but he's at work."

Kyle glanced at Isabel then back to Michael, who seemed to have vanished into a different part of the kitchen. "Um...sure." He picked up the paper he'd been reading and left the Crashdown, Isabel trailing behind him.

Maria soon disappeared into the back as Michael heard the door at the front open and close. He glanced at the table Anakin and Obi-Wan had been sitting at, hoping to see them gone. However, they were still there, chatting with one another. Which meant that someone new had stepped inside. Hadn't Liz flipped the open sign to closed when she left with Max?

"Can't people read?" He muttered annoyingly as he leaned through the kitchen's window-like opening. He proclaimed loudly so Anakin and Obi-Wan could hear as well, "We're closed!"

"I'm well aware of that," the newcomer responded with a smile in Michael's direction.

"B-Brody? Uh, look man, we're closed. I'd, uh, make you that sandwich thing you like, but I'm really beat and my shift is ov--"

"I don't require sustenance," Brody answered. "I'm here on business. Where's Max?"

Business. Max. Zan. Antar. Larek.

"He's not here. I can call him, if you'd like." But, just as Michael moved to pick up the phone, Brody - no, Larek, turned towards Anakin and Obi-Wan, pointing at the two as a mixture of shock and disbelief formed on his face as his mouth dropped open slightly.

Larek stepped forward, moving towards the booth as he skilfully calmed his host body's facial features. "General Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan, who hadn't been paying Michael or the newcomer any attention, turned towards Larek at the sound of his name. He furrowed his brow in confusion, not recognizing the voice or the form of the person who seemed to know him. "Yes...do I know you?"

The man nodded, grinning, almost...nervously. "You don't remember me? We met once, just before the Battle of Geono--ahh, the host body! I always forget that little tid bit." He laughed, moving so he was now a few steps away from the booth. "Well, even if you don't recognize me, I sure as well recognize you, _Negotiator_. Senator Larek of Antar, at your service."

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

_"Roswell" is © Jason Katims; "Star Wars" is © George Lucas._

01.23.2006, edited 05.03.2007


	3. Chapter Three

**" MUCH ADO ABOUT DESTINY "**

_03. CHAPTER THREE_

Obi-Wan was shocked, to say the least. He had been under the impression that he and Anakin were the only ones assigned to this task. And, as far as he knew, the Senate had no knowledge of the Antarian Royal Four. Members of the Antarian Court had come directly to the Jedi Council with this request. No one outside of the Council, himself, and Anakin had any knowledge of this mission. And now, Antar's senator was standing before him - and in a human's body, none the less. Had the Antarian Court changed their minds about doing this after stating that they expressed their wishes to keep the Senate out of this? Or, had some outside force found out? He had been thought the Antarian Court had not told their senatorial representative of this, thus preventing anyone with such a title from having such knowledge. He didn't have a solid clue as to what was going on at the moment, but decided to remain passive and allow the senator to do the talking. For now.

"Senator Larek," a quick glance to his former Padawan showed that Anakin wasn't pleased with the situation and wasn't doing a very good job of hiding that displeasure. Not that Obi-Wan thought he was trying. "...this is an unexpected pleasure."

"Likewise," Larek replied.

Obi-Wan found it odd to be speaking to Larek, who he'd only met once prior to this, through the body of another. He had been unaware that Antarians had such capabilities. The Jedi Master stood then, moving out of the booth and gesturing towards Anakin. "I don't believe you've been properly introduced to my former Padawan."

Larek raised both eyebrows in an obvious sign of interest, and glanced over at the edgy-looking Jedi. "No, I don't believe I have."

Paying mind to Obi-Wan's subtle hint, Anakin stood and bowed. "It is a pleasure to meet you," he said calmly, though his expression still gave away his distaste in this turn of events.

"Oh no, the pleasure is all mine," Larek countered, "General--"

"Skywalker. Anakin Skywalker."

Almost sarcastically, the face of Larek's human host lit up. "_The_ famous Hero Without Fear? My, my this _is_ quite the pleasure."

It was then that Michael finally approached the group, looking more irritated that Anakin. He glanced at the two Jedi, then looked pointedly to Larek. "What's going on here? You know them?"

Michael's voice was harsh and demanding, a tone that Obi-Wan didn't approve of and surely shouldn't be used in the presence of a member of the Galactic Senate. He cast Anakin a look, silently commanding him to rid them of the nosy Earthling.

Anakin now looked even more annoyed than before. He turned to Michael, standing up taller in a purposefully intimidating manner. He raised his flesh hand, waving it before him. "You will return to your duties and leave us be."

"Excuse me?" Michael scoffed and raised his own hand, waving it mockingly back at Anakin. "What the hell is this supposed to do?"

Anakin tried again. "You will return to your duties and leave us be."

"How 'bout I not?"

Huffing in annoyance, Anakin turned to Obi-Wan. "It seems that despite his outward appearance, this one is of the strong minded."

"Hey, what do you mean by 'despite his outward appearance?' What the hell are you trying to say?"

"And quite hostile," Anakin added, putting a hand to his lightsaber.

Michael crossed his arms over his chest, glancing to Larek, then back to the supposed Jedi Knights. "Look, I don't know who the hell you two sci-fi freaks are, but I'd really like to close this place and go home, so you two can go ahead and get the hell out of here."

Anakin narrowed his eyes, hand tightening around his lightsaber, ready to draw it on the unruly human, when Obi-Wan put a hand on his arm. Turning to him, Anakin looked to his former Master, who shook his head at him. Reluctantly, the younger Jedi Knight backed down and relaxed, though kept the disgruntled expression he'd been wearing plastered to his features.

Obi-Wan stepped forward. "I apologize if we are interrupting your...routines, but it is imperative that we speak with Senator Larek, fo--"

"Whoa!" Michael held a hand up, eyes going wide for a moment before narrowing once again in anger. "You know he's Larek? ...and wait, _Senator_?" He turned to Brody's body then, confusion written all over his features.

Larek shrugged. "I seemed to have left that part out, haven't I? Hrm. Well, sorry about that. But yes, _Senator_ Larek. I was a close friend of Zan's, after all. The governments on our worlds have gone through a few...changes--wouldn't you agree, General Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan nodded, but kept silent, curious as to where this was all going.

Michael seemed to be even more lost than before. "And...that's supposed to mean something to me?"

"Well," Larek said with a grin, eyes darting back and fourth between Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Michael, "not to _you_, exactly--to _them_." He gestured with one hand lazily at the two Force-sensitives. "I'm rather surprised they haven't clued into it yet, being that these two legends are deemed to be the clever sort. That luster's kind of lacking in this atmosphere, wouldn't you say?"

Anakin took a step forward, but Obi-Wan held his hand out in front of him, shaking his head once more.

"Anakin, don't," the elder Jedi said sternly, turning his gaze upon the Antarian senator. "I'm afraid we don't understand your...meaning, Senator."

Larek sighed, shaking his head and pressing his fingers to his temple. "Must I always spell these things out? You're here looking for the Ava and the rest of the Royal Four, am I correct?"

Obi-Wan nodded and next to Brody's possessed body, Michael froze.

"Well, let me make things a little easier for you. This fellow right here?" He pointed to Michael, "Is General Rath, one of the Royal Four in the flesh. Or, well, _humanoid_ flesh. But that's something he'll have to explain to you, for I'm loosing control of this body. Do tell Zan--er, _Max_ that I'll try to speak with him later, will you? I have--"

He didn't get a chance to finish, as he lost control of Brody's body, which collapsed to the floor upon the alien being leaving it. Michael was too much in a state of shock to catch him and the two Jedi held their ground, trying to absorb what Larek had just told them.

"Is it true," Anakin demanded suddenly, "that you're one of the Royal Four?"

"And what if I am?" Came Michael's sharp-tongued reply.

Obi-Wan let out a sigh, bringing up a hand to run through his hair. "Then I'm afraid you're in grave danger."

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

_"Roswell" is © Jason Katims; "Star Wars" is © George Lucas._

12/27/2007


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